


Let Me Give You My Love

by gackt_gratia



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 15:11:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3415415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gackt_gratia/pseuds/gackt_gratia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Next time I shall give you options, my love, make your choice and I shall indulge you.”</p><p>Yet this gift, it was truly outrageous even to Bard’s newly found indulgence. But he could not stop the niggling whisper at the back of his mind which urged him to open the Pandora box. He gently traced them with his fingers, silently marveling the great craftsmanship on these items. They were like commissioned especially just for him. On that thought, he immediately flushed.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Choose wisely on what you shall open yourself to me and I shall indulge you based of your choice.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Give You My Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Naaja](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Naaja).



> PS: It's bottom!Bard and I feel he is a bit OOC here...please proceed with caution.

Bard slumped in his exhaustion after his second orgasm this night. He was panting, felt like he had run in few laps when the adrenalin rushed in his blood. He could not feel certain parts of his body, particularly the muscles low on his back and his bottom. He knew his tender rim would be puffed and red. Not to mention it would definitely be filthily wet from mixture of lube and his lover’s seeds spent inside him, some had even leaked out from his hole.

Bard knew he was the  very picture of debauchery. He could heard the delighted hum from his smug lover. If only he was not dead tired from rounds of sex and still high on endorphin, he would definitely try to sock the beautiful ancient elf behind him.

The said elf had not bothered by the mess upon their naked bodies and just slid close to his lover. Thranduil slipped his arms from behind, pulled the sweaty body onto his, spooning his human lover. He littered the exposed side close to him with fond and gentle kisses.

“ _Meleth nin._ ”

Bard just groaned in reply. His eyes were sleepy and heavy. He just wanted to rest his aching body. Not that he minded the aches, instead he was secretly pleased by the soreness and the marks which littered almost all his body. There were bruises on neck, chest, back, collarbone, neck and shoulder juncture, hot ache from the stinging slaps which reddened his buttocks and lastly the bruised spots from the hard grips of the long deceptively strong elven fingers upon his hipbones, his inner thighs.

“Bard.”

Thranduil could not help not to croon on his lover’s name like a great cat being satisfied by tasty flesh of its prey.

“See, tis not too hard for you to ask every now and then, should you wish only to be ravished until you are at loss of words.”

The elven king slipped one of his hands down and not uncruelly grasped on the limp member. That act had earned him a pained gasp.

“Ah!”

Thranduil lessened his grip but did not relent from stroking the clearly still sensitive shaft. It twitched weakly, trying to get away from the unwelcomed sensation. Yet he was still fascinated by how each time the manicured nails scratch lightly on the skin, a whimper followed.

Bard was reduced to a shuddering mess as the pain and the pleasure had muddled his mind and his senses. It was simply too much and it had caused some tears to fall freely. He tried to stop the elf but his grasps were weak against the strong arms.

“Stop, please.”

Thranduil stilled his hand and shushed his whimpering lover. He simply could not resist this sadist side of him. He truly liked to see this bowman, the mighty dragonslayer, was ruined, unable to decipher which of pleasure and which of pain. It was addicting and he could not get enough of it.

“Next time I shall give you options, my love, make your choice and I shall indulge you.”

Thranduil moved his hand up and caressed the taut abdomen soothingly whilst the other is wiping off the tears that had trailed down.

Bard sighed, relieved that his lover did not try to torment him any further. He tilted his head up, trying to kiss his lover. He let his lips brushed against the smooth jaw.

“Next time, my king.”

Thranduil captured the venturing lips and promptly devoured it until the his lungs burnt. He released the already swollen and tender lips, slightly open yet unable to speak for the air had been stolen.

“Rest now.”

Bard sighed and let his heavy eyes closed on the command.

***

 

The next time came not anytime soon. Bard had mostly forgotten the whole ordeal if only the messenger from Greenwood had not come.

It was quite a hectic day for the newly crowned King of Dale. There was a new reconstruction site he needed to observe as well as discussing the rebuilding plan’s site. Next was the meeting of the agricultural team who were responsible to plan the crops planting as well as trying to negotiate on the price, the crop seeds recommendation and purchasing. He could only take a short lunch when he was on the way to the lake where he would see the progress on rebuilding docks and stations to ease the transportation as well as goods distribution via the river running. The lake which connected the rivers that run on the forest of Greenwood as well as the Iron Hills and the Sea of Rhun.

Later, just before the sun set, when he was alone in his office where he was sorting and reading through all the official letters addressed to him or those who were needed of his approval, the knock came. His state secretary or more of his personal aide and shortly, his personal paperwork helper, told him that there was a messenger from Mirkwood who asked of his audience. Bard nodded and let the messenger in.

It turned out that the messenger was only ordered to deliver a personal gift from the elvenking directly to Bard himself. When asked, the delivery elf knew nothing of the reason of this package and the elf had no other message to be delivered but the box. Curious but not alarmed by the antic of his lover, Bard thanked the elf and ordered his aide to attend to the elf.

Then when he was alone again, Bard cleared out a section of his table to put down the package just before him. He was interested of what the King of Greenwood had sent him. It was one hefty package wrapped neatly in an elven cloth to protect the clearly box shaped parcel. He untied the knot and there it was, a wooden box.

The box was of simple design. It was lacquered and only had minimal design of vines on each of the edges. The austerity of the box had shown that whatever contained inside was not of jewelry for Bard knew of Thranduil’s lavish jewelry boxes. Wondered on what his elf had gifted to him, Bard opened the box.

Bard stared at the gift laid inside the velvet linings of the box for a moment then he slowly closed the lid again. He was stunned, speechless to make out of what his lover had given him.

Bard might have an inkling of what they were as his mind raced on the possibilities, recalling back all his sexual encounters with the elf king who was not quite as reserved and prudish as his outwardly manner might have suggested. In fact, after their relationship blossomed and began their sexual exploration, he had found out that the elvenking was all but cold between the sheets.

Thranduil was wicked, in Bard’s opinion. He was one of a sadist who liked to inflict pleasure upon his flesh and reduced him like a babbling idiot in the wake of his clever fingers and mischievous tongue. He liked his control but he strove to strip Bard off of his. Bard also learnt that elves, or perhaps just the King of Greenwood himself, were crafty when it was about pleasuring one’s desire.

Bard was all vanilla back when he was still wedded to his wife but now, there were kinks that he never knew before or perhaps too ashamed to admit to his wife. At first, he felt like he was out of depth but Thranduil taught him all about the carnality of sexual desire. Now, even if it was always hard for him to speak what he wanted, he no longer denied or shied from what his body secretly craved.

Yet this gift, it was truly outrageous even to Bard’s newly found indulgence. But he could not stop the niggling whisper at the back of his mind which urged him to open the Pandora box.

Bard was transfixed, staring at the three items neatly and innocently laid there. He gently traced them with his fingers, silently marveling the great craftsmanship on these items. They were like commissioned especially just for him. On that thought, he immediately flushed. He was about to close the box and put away that box when a note tucked on the upper lid lining caught his eyes.

Bard plucked out the note. On it, written in a lavish paper, was a familiar handwriting he had seen from letters of Greenwood which was personally written by the king himself. He read the message and the blush came back fiercely along with a sharp spark of ache, a faint echo of eager anticipation of what would happen should he did as commanded.

_Dear Bard,_

_Choose wisely on what you shall open yourself to me and I shall indulge you based of your choice._

_Until next time we meet._

_-Thranduil_

 

 

 ~End of 0th~

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> After 10,780 words of no smut...I wrote this long-ish smut. I am really rusty in writing smut scene so I hope my description makes sense to whoever read this. If there are a lot of repeated words, please forgive me. It's unbetaed and spell checked by Microsoft Word 2010. I forced myself to finish this chapter when it is almost 3 am here.
> 
> PS: this piece of work is dedicated to Naaja, my best friend who feed the bunnies ;)
> 
> Elvish translation sources [here](http://www.grey-company.org/Circle/language/phrase.htm)  
> 1\. Meleth nin = my love  
> 


End file.
